The Matchmaker who can see the red string of fate

L

ove, see if there's any clouds that could cover the scorching sun. But

ngs. Either they hate their life and had too much pity for themselves or they're

at me like the rest of the people w

care of me, all these strangers will come and go and move on wi

f limestone, the white cat emerg

d eating it too. Munching, savoring, the overall lukew

ookies whose always burnt and

eeper handed me a bottle of water. I slowly d

companions. But my ears forced their voice shut. Idle tal

per into my memories. Unlocking my mo

itar in his lap. He's strumming and humming. His voice pulsates around the room of our

g his inky black messy hair, adding more vibrance to his electric blue e

n angel. My one

rawings. The smile continued to linger on his lips. Was he happy? Amus

the beat into words, I struck my

y Citize

u ever fe

don't mat

re born just

s fear de

he surface leaving

he melt me once again

're walki

that you've

being the o

e if you just open your eyes you'

I k

purpose in

the guitar. Going forward into the intricate s

I kn

purpose in

feel alre

reasons left stan

ally look

andle in t

just to s

ou still c

hold o

ill be

m his favorite band. He said they can put feelings that ca

what he's saying. But now... the more I played it in my head, the mo

ill be

ill be

hear me

lt the

ill be

ever to

holdi

always a

song delivered straight to th

son who this song referred to as "Will find me" in my ag

is deep empty void he left in my soul? I d

save me from

*

t position. The cat found its way in my side. Curlin

Contentment. It doesn't matter who or where, I jus

ty. I sometimes find myself clawing at my skin. Trying to pierce my heart, cut my body

nt to see

e time smooth it somehow came out as familiar to me, whi

that, when arranged by the god of deat

n. Which, for the past four months

d. Evidently surprised I still know

the haven of afterlife, there is a way. With the permission of the ruler of death

t my cheeks already turn to ice, it's

ool subjected to experiments. So too go

make you believe me. But before that

Kenneth's singing figure suddenly flipped wi

r drawing purposes, I know it's a sketchpa

plain abstract cover erased its colors, transforming

OF STRINGS wrote itself as if there's an i

have screamed, tuck my tails, and bolt to

ng about the strange phenomena unfolding in fr

center. At first, it took shape of a small tornado, then it grows

st four months make me incapable to walk. Just a slight p